Hem of your Garment
by ShazzyZhang
Summary: He was always so rough, but she knew he cared. She had to wonder why he never closed the distance between them, even though the invitation was there in the open. So she asks. Carol x Daryl. ...I don't think I cussed in this one!


_AN: This one is a bit different. Set /just/ before they flee from the farm. Bit of a song fic and drabble, but I needed to get a CarolxDaryl fic out into the aether before my brain exploded._

_I don't own the characters or the song, but I am pretty sure we all know that already._

_I love you all!_

_-Shazzy_

"I'm intrinsically no good.

I have a heart that's made of wood.

I am only biding time.

Only reciting memorized lines.

And I'm not fit to touch the hem of your garment.

No no, I'm not fit to touch the hem of your garment..."

_-Hem of your Garment, by Cake_

**Hem of your Garment**

She always _cared_. Maybe it wasn't a bad thing, entirely, but it was hard to watch. She felt everything so profoundly, so clearly. She suffered for you, not with you, _for_ you. You felt better somehow, knowing that she would grieve louder and longer than anyone else. And she still cared. She still made a point to take care of you.

Daryl sighed as he watched her from his vantage point on top of the RV. He felt entirely voyeuristic and perverted even though she was only washing vegetables for their meal. She was too good for this group. Too pure. He didn't understand her. Anyone else would be hardened, calloused and cold on the inside. Hell, _he_ was hardened and cold on the inside. But not her; her loss, her suffering had made her more compassionate.

She wasn't the strongest person in the group. She wasn't a moral compass. She barely spoke, letting everyone else make the decisions for them, but she was there for everyone. She was the mother.

Daryl wrinkled his nose at the thought and cast his wary gaze over the perimeter of the farm.

He _liked_ her, and that was the problem. Thinking of her as the mother hen was a bad idea. It made whatever feelings he had towards her seem depraved. Vaguely, he wondered if it had to do with his own shitty upbringing.

But that was the problem. It was in her nature to be kind. To be far too trusting and caring.

And his nature was the exact opposite.

She knew he was watching her. He always did. She smiled to herself as she washed the garden vegetables for lunch.

He was so _rough. _His manners were terrible. He was bitter. He had a cruel streak in him. And yet he was so _intriguing_. He didn't act like he cared. He probably didn't. He stuck around, though. Like the whole world would fall apart if he left. Not that there was much of a world left. But he made it work. He took on extra responsibilities as though he didn't trust anyone else to do it right. And he still protected them.

Carol smiled as she felt his gaze land on her again. There was this unspoken bond between them. She'd made a point to admit that she cared for him, but he hadn't made much of an attempt to reciprocate the feelings.

Not that it mattered. He had his ways of showing her that he didn't just view her as another waste of space. She felt ashamed, though, that she couldn't make herself more useful. Sure, washing and cooking were important, but she couldn't even shoot a damn gun! Not that anyone had bothered to ask her.

She wondered if he'd be willing to teach her one day, maybe she could prove to him that she could be useful in other ways than a mother would be.

But it wasn't in his nature to make the first move when it came to things like that.

And it wasn't in her nature to ask.

They sat quietly during meals, each wrapped up in their own thoughts while the rest of the group chattered on and on about mundane things. The same topics were brought up every time the group gathered.

Food, shelter, ammunition, winter.

It was boring.

Daryl caught her stealing glances at him more than once, but he didn't respond in any way. The rest of the group was more likely to notice if he did. Her fixation on him was unbearable. He wasn't worth it, and he certainly didn't deserve someone like _her_. Actually, he was convinced that she didn't deserve _him_.

He was a redneck, there was no other way to describe himself. Uneducated, gun-totin', white trash. And she was... Everything that he wasn't.

Hell, he'd kill a person for lookin' at him wrong. He was sure his brother had done worse for less.

And yet she saw something in him that made her stop and pay attention to him. Maybe it was because he'd been the only one determined to find her missing daughter. Maybe it was because he was the only one who actually cared about her enough to make sure she was all right whenever things went south. Maybe it was something else entirely. Daryl wasn't sure, but whatever was going on between them was more than a passing fascination.

So it shouldn't have surprised either of them when they found themselves alone on the edge of the farm watching the sun set.

They hadn't intended to be there together.

Daryl had gone out to patrol, hoping vaguely to bag a deer, or some rabbits, something that he could present to the group, hopefully keep them fed for another day.

Carol had simply decided that she needed a walk.

"Can I walk with you?"

Carol blinked back her surprise. He had asked her first.

"Sure." She said quietly, almost embarrassed that they'd run into one another.

They walked along the edge of the field in silence, a few inches between them. The sun burned low and orange in the sky.

She broke first.

"Why won't you tell me how you really feel?" Carol asked.

Daryl stared at her, unsure how to respond.

"I mean," Carol pressed on, "you hover and follow me around. I know you care, but you keep your distance. Maybe I don't want you to."

Daryl stopped walking, a frown plastered firmly on his mouth.

"I can't not keep this distance." Daryl said after a long moment. "You're so... _pure_, Carol. You're everything that I ain't, and..."

Carol's pale eyes widened as she waited for him to finally say what was on his mind.

"As much as I adore you, I'm not even fit to touch the hem of your garment." He drawled slowly, struggling with the words to express himself. "So I don't."


End file.
